The Dangers of Empathy
by theblindtorpedo
Summary: Netwon Geiszler and Hermann Gottlieb are cowards. They know this and do not care. The last two scientists on the Jaeger program wrap themselves in numbers and viscera to blind them to the slow inevitable movement of their lives forward, because what are two people to the world? But with the Kaiju defeated and the Drift between them, it is not so easy for them to escape.
1. Chapter 1

Hermann is seated in a chair across the room. Even in his exhaustion his posture is still all hard angles as he watches in characteristic intense concentration. Newt would usually complain about the position, that it reeks of Hermann's habitual smugness, but the bags under his partner's eyes read weary so Newt holds his tongue. Still, his mouth burns to move so it does so without engaging vocal chords, licking lips and teeth, blowing air, humming. Hermann flinches as he makes an especially loud popping sound with his cheek and Newt can't help but smile. The suitcases and the railway tickets, those are the future, but he is victorious because at the end of it all Hermann is here, with him, in the now. He cannot help but engage in these familiar interactions that are the sole remnants of a ten year partnership, a shared world now disintegrating around them. Newt is glad to share it for a few moments longer.

Hermann pities him for how he clings to their old routine, oblivious to how his own presence is evidence he does the same. Newt does not see this as a negative, for the future will come eventually and what harm does it do to revel in the now as it lopes in to the dusty catacombs of memory? He knows Hermann would prefer a clean break. Past history, personality, the already pristine and chalk free nature of his side of the lab and his own vocal opinions all point towards this. Yet he is here when he has no need to be. Newt knows he is the dependent variable that draws the irascible Dr Gottlieb to a place of vitriolic comfort. He grows giddy with the confidence and similar comfort this knowledge brings and he wishes to extend out this last moment of codependency. So he works as inefficiently as possible, stumbling around his side of the lab, sliding kaiju parts into bags, wiping down counters, rambling about the various celebrations occurring all around Hong Kong.

"I suppose you're going to make some incredibly hurtful jab about how I should have done" kaiju spleen stuff unceremoniously into Tupperware "this" small vacuum hose starting "earlier."

"No."

The vacuum stops seconds after ignition and it sputters in protest, but Newt is too busy looking at Hermann. And he suddenly sees just how deflated the other man is. Newt, always manic Newt, could still feel the adrenaline of victory in his veins that had been maintained for the past few days by jumping from party to party, shoving himself between people who liked him but did not particularly know him. The fun was an impersonal haze; like all the others he was just glad to be alive.

Hermann was never the partying type and, although he could not be sure, Newt felt he would have known if Hermann had attended any of the same celebrations he had. He tried to avoid investigating why he felt he should instinctively know this. It's the drift, he told himself, and went back on to enjoying Hermann free debauchery. What the drift was, what it meant, he did not need to know now. Or did not want to know yet.

"What'd you mean, no? I mean of course it makes sense you'd want a clean lab, yeah, but you don't have to oversee it. Like I can totally do this by myself don't you have things to do other than breathe down my neck. . ."

Now his buzz was slowly fading and as he grew silent he considered that Hermann's brief happiness must have faded long ago. The physicist's mouth hung open, neck tensing as he pushed the next words from his lips.

"I don't care anymore."

"Uhh, Hermann," Newt laughed nervously, "that's not like you. Should I call a doctor? Like a real doctor not us doctors, like a medical doctor."

Near non-existent lips pursed. "I do not think that shall be necessary. I am quite fine. But I do feel I have overspent my time here. I must leave." He planted his cane upon the floor, pushing up to a standing position.

"Or like a mental doctor."

Hermann's head snapped up with a ferocity that Newt did not realize he still had in him.

"If," he growled, "I needed any sort of psychiatric help I am certain you would require it tenfold, since as far as I can see any and all maladies of my mind have originated from you. I can only guess as to the myriad neurosis incubating in your brain."

Newt's shock provided Hermann with the opportunity to angrily stride out and it was only as he reached the door that he heard Newt's unusually quiet reaction. There was no response, no rising to the bait.

"Hey, dude. You know I'm really happy for you. Both of you."

Quiet forgiveness of all things. Not what he expected at all and that chilled him to the core. But he was no expert in Drift mechanics; he had no right to be surprised at its effects despite his few days studying it. While Newt flew the crowded ship of escapism Hermann had embraced the Drift, combing his mind for changes in his self. He had found quite a few, frightening in their depth. So he had followed to Newt to the lab, the first time he could really be alone with him since the victory, and he had watched and overanalyzed and wondered if there were changes manifesting in his partner as well. Here was proof that something had most definitely changed and he was not sure yet whether he liked it or not. He was just as scared as Newt, but spiced with a pang of self awareness. So he planned to do what he always did when he was scared.

He was going to call Vanessa.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dr. Hermann Gottlieb."

Newt glances at Pentecost nervously, like a child searching for clues on how to act in front of a stranger, but the stoic Marshall gives no hints as to what is expected. So Newt reverts to his usual defense mechanism when he is overwhelmed or nervous or just confused. In this case it is a mixture of them all. Dr Gottlieb is not much older than he and perhaps a few inches taller. Unlike Newt he stands ramrod straight and strong, impeccable bone structure framing stern lips and serious eyes.

"Gottlieb, that's a German name! I'm German too, although you wouldn't know with this voice I'm sure."

"Then you two should have much to talk about. In your spare time, which I am sad to say you may have little of. This is a war. I cringe at the cliché, but I say it because it's true. You are the brightest minds of your generation. Now I hope you will excuse my rudeness, but I have some more bright minds to carrel. You have the files. "

Dr Gottlieb pats the folder tucked under one arm in acknowledgement.

"Then I shall leave you two able men to set up the lab. As you can see the available space stretches in each direction for your respective departments, but we expect you to share this main area for debriefings and the necessary collaborative work. The rest of the team should be arriving throughout the week, but as you are our head scientists I thought it best you had this time to familiarize yourselves with the area and each other"

"We thank you."

"Honestly, thank you very much, Marshall! So stoked to finally get to work against fighting the kaiju!"

They received a tight lipped smile, before being bid a pleasant "Good day." The door shut quietly behind him, but even the soft click of the lock served to exaggerate the immensity and emptiness of the room around them.

"Well then, Dr Geiszler . . ."

"Call me, Newt, everyone does."

"That would be improper."

"Proper, schmoper. Does that British accent, which by the way is way strange coming from an actual native German I mean I'm at least German American, but is that a thing you picked up to feel more official or something? Like the Marshall? You don't need that! C'mon, we're the same level of command here. When everybody else gets here maybe they can call me Dr Geiszler although that'd be super weird. I'd feel like I'm teaching again. I don't want to be doing that now that I finally made it!"

"I suspect we shall be doing more teaching than we'd like, Newton, what with us being the singular experts in our fields." The other Doctor emphasized the compromise in using the full name instead. "Besides we are far from, as you say 'making it.'"

"Are you kidding me? He said it himself, this is one of the most important jobs ever! That's why he called in us. You must be brilliant, a genius that's what they called me, to be working so young. I never knew what I wanted to do. Dinosaurs were so super cool, but they were dead. I was going to work with reptiles maybe and then the kaiju came. So it was always my dream to work with kaijus since the war started. In a perfect world I'd love to get to really study them you know, get up close and personal, especially to a live one."

"Well, I cannot say much for your dreams. I am here solely for my duty to the world and my dedication to numbers."

"Oh, wow. I could never be part of something as dangerous as this if I didn't want to be here-"

"-with every fiber of your being it seems."

"Yeah, you don't even know. Check this out."

Newt makes to roll up one of his sleeves exposing an arm sheathed in color. Dr Gottlieb, no Hermann, cannot help from breathing in sharply, intrigue seeping into him. He stretches out the arm not holding the cane, letting a splayed hand hover just above the markings.

"May I?"

"Go ahead. I'm used to it. You got tats, you get questions. You pay for a lifetime of both."

The fingers curl around his forearm to form a firm grip as Hermann holds the limb steady, then in a fluid motion flips it over for a full examination. Newt trembles as a new sensation washed over him, suddenly regretting being so open with his body. It is as if, in those long fingers, the other man is reaching not just to his skin, but deeper and pulling him out and holding him steady. Newt, so used to having to be the one in control of his own body, thrills and cowers at this new external point of stability. But it is gone in a moment as Hermann releases him and and he is old Newt again, all energy swirling in his head and chest pressing to burst. He rubs at his arm where Hermann's hand had been.

"I cannot fathom why you would ever wish to mar your extremities with those beasts."

Newt shrugs in defense. "To each his own I guess."

"Quite. Now, time is of the essence and we have wasted far too much already."

A folder is thrown at him and he catches it against his chest, staggering at the unexpected force.

"Read."

They do.

In the future years Newt would pull this memory out to relive in times of stress or emotion. Succumbing to either was not conducive to their mission. When it all became near unbearable he would crawl into bed, curl up in a ball and remember what it was like before all this. They had been naïve and idealistic, coming from areas not devastated by kaiju attacks their knowledge based solely on scholarly interest. It iss the only time they are truly calm with each other. Then comes the crushing reality of actively working against the kaiju attacks, their research clocked in lives of people. Newt had only the one tattoo and both Hermann's legs worked. Sometimes Newt likes to remember how they were before they were broken.

It is four months later when the next kaiju attacks. They know it is coming, but that does not stop the fear that pumps through their veins as they feel the ground shake with alien strength for the first time. Hermann has his arms wrapped across his chest as if he is wearing a straight jacket. He watches Tendo shout into the microphone. Newton is bobbing up and down on his feet.

"Dr. Geiszler the visuals you requested."

A tablet is shoved into Newts hands and with a shout of "Finally!" to no one in particular he starts flipping through the video and photo feeds. Hermann is leaning over his shoulder watching for several minutes until he asks a question.

"Do you ever think maybe we were chosen for this?"

"What are you even saying, dude? Oh shit! How many floors must that skyscraper have been, a hundred? Look at that claw, it swiped right through it! I have to know what that's made of."

"I mean God. Do you think God chose us for this?"

"I can't-you know I'm an agnostic right? I don't really have time for God."

"Well, then do you think by fate were chosen? Because of our" Hermann waves a hand vaguely and grimaces "abilities."

"You make it sound like intelligence is a superpower. I wish it was, but as everyone reminds me, we're still people. Unfortunately."

"No Newton, you see I've figured it out. We are machines! Why else would we be able to do what we can do. We have a purpose, in the clockwork of reality. Perhaps we are not the prettiest of pieces, but we are the most intricate."

"Okay, I don't mean to be rude, but now is really not the time for your existential stuff. The Jaeger finally reached it. Let's see what this baby can do! Hermann, look!"

Hermann does look, his divine train of thought abandoned by the glory of the fight. The Jaeger, a Mark III expertly takes down the crab-like Level 3 kaiju. When it falls Newt utters a small moan in mourning, but he smiles and he looks over at Hermann, whose eyes are still glued to the screen and is surprised at what he sees. Herman's hands are clasped together and Newton is mesmerized by the look of absolute reverence on his face. When one of the pilots pumps the air with the Jaeger's fist he can see Hermann swallow heavily and then the man is smiling. This us the first time he's ever seen him smile. It is dangerously fascinating. Newt presses off the tablet and it as if Hermann is pulled into a bright light, blinking furiously and brow furrowing. He excuses himself before Newt can say anything more, but he is quite fine with leaving Hermann to his own devices. Newt suspects he's run off to already begin work on calculating the next attack. There will be a lot more kaiju parts soon to arrive and he has much work to look forward to. And it is probably for the best if they are out of each other's hair.

There is a distinct 'us' and 'them' mentality in the science department. Of course the other scientists brought to the Jaeger program respect Drs Geiszler and Gottlieb. Their expertise is irrefutable yet the two are in a distinct different sphere from their colleagues. They feel like caricatures of scientists. Some resent that these are the men representing them; when one watches the two work science seems magical, near unattainable. They are both lost in it, have been for years. Their colleagues, many years older and even decades, look on them with wonder. At the shallowest level camaderie between the heads of the department and the rest of their teams is lost because they are both of them frustratingly difficult to work with for their eccentricities. There is an understanding that efforts towards maximum cooperation should be made, because they cannot afford to have petty differences in personality come between failure and progress. No one epitomizes this mindset more than Drs Geiszler and Gottlieb. They are oil and water in their methods and personalities. Dr Geiszler is loud and sloppy and fast. Dr Gottlieb is fastidious to a fault. They end up portioning the main room with yellow tape, which everyone else agrees is ludicrously juvenile. They quarrel over the state of each other's notes: Dr Geiszlers are sloppy and illegible, Dr Gottlieb's too dense and needlessly extensive in explaining concepts. Both are difficult to find relevance in unless their authors are present, who hen assert that all parts are relevant and if one does not wish to hear all of them read aloud it is an insult to them, the project and the entire discipline of science. Yet they work well together both in work and socially. They sit together at meals and it might be because no one else wishes to sit with them, but the system works. Gottlieb closes his eyes and lowers his head in Grace while Geiszler begins shoveling food into his mouth, making obscene sounds at his pious companion. One could see their system, how they move furiously, but always left room for the other to dance with them. Geiszler always waits until the prayer is over before beginning a conversation and soon the food is forgotten in favor of a fevered argument, accompanied by flying hands or fists on the table. Their minds move at speeds unreachable by everyone else around them and so they have no one else to turn to except each other for the stimulation they desire, despite their differences. And, everyone else conclude, the two were not so different at all, although both would be loathe admitting it. They are most definitely not friends, but the closest to friends either has within the station, which is why all are shocked upon learning that Hermann Gottlieb has, in fact, a girlfriend.

There is no fanfare to her introduction. It begins with a knock at the door.

Newt swings off his top bunk, landing on his bare feet.

"You are not an ape and this is not a forest, Newton!"

Newt ignores him as he pads toward the door. He peers through the peephole, but does not recognize the woman on the other side. She has shining dark skin and a round face framed by short black curly hair. She wears a long knit dress, simple yet still fancier than anything a worker would wear. He decides he might open the door.

"I'm here to see Hermann," she says.

"Hermann? No way."

She laughs at his incredulity and Newts natural hackles rise. Everyone laughs at him and though her laughter is genuine it still sits uncomfortably in his ears. He does not think he likes this woman. She is far too happy. Behind them Hermann has climbed out of his bed and has moved up to behind Newt's shoulder.

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't come here."

"And you promised at least one night out together a month."

"Right, yes." The guilt on Hermann's face makes Newt giggle and then he looks up at the woman with surprised eyes.

"Wait, is this what I think it is?"

"That depends on what you're thinking. Hermann, wouldn't you like to introduce me to Dr. Geiszler?"

A frustrated sigh sends air down his collar and Newton is suddenly very conscious of how close Hermann is, almost pressed against his back. He can feel his neck growing hot and hopes he isn't blushing.

"Newton this is Vanessa. Vanessa, Newton."

"Only he calls me Newton."

"What does everyone else call you? Newt?"

"Yeah, they do. I don't blame them really. You can't really take a person named Newt too seriously. No one really takes me seriously so it fits. That's okay as long as the take the science seriously."

"Hm, I think I shall call you Newton as well. Especially if that is what Hermann calls you."

"Newton, you are blocking the door." Hermann is impatient

He spins around and Hermann is scowling at him and he scowls back, before pushing him to the side and climbing back up his bunk. If they didn't want him then they didn't need him.

"Have I offended-" she directs the question at him, but Hermann interrupts.

"No you haven't. I think we should go."

"Hermann . . ." She breathes his name in long suffering tones, but he is already moving out the door. An apologetic glance is thrown in Newt's direction, before she follows Hermann. The door swings shut behind them.

Newt is at the peephole again and he watches them walk down the hallway, her hands wrapped around his arm. He wonders who this mysterious Vanessa is. Relative? Old friend? Girlfriend? He has never seriously studied Hermann's belongings for clues to this past and all their conversations have ever been about the now. It is a terrible idea, but Newton Geiszler has always been fond of terrible ideas. He leans under the bed and pulls out a small metal box. The cover is computer encrypted, but it shouldn't be too hard to hack into, Newt thinks. Not, because Hermann wouldn't be able to make a failproof safe, but simply because he never would have considered this worth some else's time. Out of the all the things Hermann Gottlieb cherishes in this world inside is perhaps what he cares for the least: his past.


End file.
